Waking Nightmare
by Yami's Chan
Summary: set after the special act. Jadeite can not let go of the past, and is stuggling to adapt to a human life and everything that goes with it. Dark fic. mentions of self inflicted injuries and dark thoughts.


Title: Waking Nightmare (title is open tochange)

Raiting: R/M

Pairings: Mentioned Jadeite/Beryl (possibly onesided)

Warnings: Metnioned self harm, dark thoughts about death etc., inexpereinced at writting for this catagory. Swearing. Seriously, it's a dark fic.

I hope you like it, comments are muchly apreciated. Flames are not apreciated, or taken seriously.

* * *

Sleep does not come easy. Partly because I don't let myself sleep. I don't want to take my clothes off and lie down unarmed and defenceless. After so long fighting it just seems like the most unnatural thing in the world. Sometimes I fall asleep sitting at my desk, trying to read or huddled on the window ledge as I look out over the city. Sometimes when I can't support my weight any longer I lie on the floor beside my bed, one hand on a dagger, so uncomfortable that any sleep I do fall into is light, broken at the slightest creak of floorboards. Only one time, when I'd been awake for three days solid, am I so exhausted that I fall asleep like this so deeply that I don't wake for hours. I stir at one point to find someone trying to move me into bed, and I'm so out of it I just let them. I don't even notice who it is.

To my sleep addled brain, part of me thinks it could be her.

I wake up fully when the sun is starting to rise. Instantly I'm on my feet, pacing the room, furious at myself. How could I possibly let my guard down like that? I'm so on edge that I jump at the slightest noise for the rest of the day. I don't mention what happened in the night to anyone.

The others don't understand. Nephrite's already had some practice at living like this, after...what happened to him, in the dark kingdom. Although I'm not about to remind him of this. He's not even here half the time; he spends a lot of nights at Ami's. Something else that I can't get my head around.

Kunzite adapts quickly and anyway, guilt still fills me whenever I'm near him and I can't let myself be alone with him for any length of time. Not that he seems to hold a grudge. He's above anything as childish as that.

But I thought that Zoisite might just be struggling like me. I thought he might spend his nights softly playing at the piano downstairs with the door shut. Maybe waiting until Nephrite and Kunzite are asleep, and I'm so far lost in my own mind that I don't hear. So on a night when I can't stand my own company anymore I slip out of my room and towards his music room. In my mind I can see myself opening up to him, telling him how awful my nights are, about every horrible thought that enters my head. And some of them are really, really terrible...

Something makes me pause at his bedroom and peer in round the door, just to check. I sigh with disappointment when I see him curled up asleep in bed. I whisper his name, to no response. I swollow hard and try again. He wakes a bit, only to roll over again and tell me to go back to bed. I still want to talk to him, to anyone, so badly it hurts. But I've lost my nerve by this point so I scurry back to my room like a good little boy and plan for every possible disaster or emergency.

I don't need to be asleep to have nightmares. All I have to do is close my eyes, and I've got my own private horror movie playing inside my skull.

Betrayal.

Fighting.

Killing.

Destruction.

Death.

More fighting.

More betrayal.

Dying again.

And through it all: her.

Her hair, her mouth, her skin, her scent. I can practically taste her. Reach out my hand and I'm scared I might touch her. Or scared because I know I won't be able to.

Because she's dead. Really dead. I know. I'd know if she was alive as surely as I'd know if my master was in danger.

My master and my Queen.

If you rip my heart out it would be split equally, one half for each of them.

Why would I want to dream, just to be trapped in my memories?

* * *

It's an accident when I cut myself although I know no one's going to believe it. I'm sitting at the desk one night, staring at the clock, waiting until I can get up and start another day. I've finished the book I've been reading. I can't watch TV this late at night. So I just sit there. I run my dagger through my hands out of habit almost without realising it.

It comes as a shock when look down to see blood trickle down my finger. It's only a tiny cut. More like a pinprick. I watch as the blood trails across my palm and down my wrist. I don't even feel the pain at first. Out of sheer curiosity I use the tip of the dagger to cut my ring finger too. I feel that, faintly, but I'm more interested in the patterns the blood is making against my skin. I repeat the same action on my other fingers on that hand too and then the thumb. Five tiny little cuts. I doubt they even do bandages that small. But I'm fascinated. I'm so numb that I'm not feeling this.

I experiment, seeing how quickly and lightly I can jab at my skin without breaking the surface. Testing how deep or long I can draw the blade before it hurts enough to make me stop. I move onto my palm and the back of my hand too. I keep it to my left hand though, to keep a grip on the knife.

I look up at the clock and a whole hour has gone past. I look back down at my hand and I'm suddenly disgusted. And then the pain hits and it's enough to make me gag. I drop my dagger and back away to the other side of the room even though it's me I'm frightened of. But the pain is something else to concentrate on. And while I'm scared of myself, then I'm not scared of what's going to come and get me while I'm asleep. It's mad but I drift off easier after that than I have done for as long as I can remember.

When it's finally morning and I go downstairs I stupidly don't cover my hand. You'd think having proper sleep would make me think clearer, but apparently not. It's just Kunzite in the kitchen when I get there and I quickly move to back out of the room but he sees me and I'm stuck. So I go and sit down and act like everything's normal. And it nearly is normal, I'm pouring my third coffee. Kunzite glances at my movement, and his eyes suddenly become fixated on my hand. I know he's seen right away, I should make a run for it or at least cover my hand up my sleeve, but I'm frozen as he grabs my wrist and pulls my hand closer for him to see. I'm expecting him to explode but he just lets me go. My hand drops limply back to the table. He looks...disappointed in me. I can't tell if that's because I cut myself, or because I didn't manage to do a better job of it.

"Suicide is for cowards, Jadeite." Is all he says.

I don't bother to explain. I don't bother to point out that this really would be a pathetic, useless attempt at suicide. Cutting my hand, mangling my fingers, not even my arm. After a while of just the two of us in silence we hear movement from one of the others upstairs and he tells me to go wash my hand and wrap it to stop it getting infected. I hear him tell Zoisite and Nephrite that I dropped a glass.

But somehow the master finds out. It doesn't occur to me until later that Kunzite would tell him. He asks to see my wrist the next day when we're alone together. I do offer the feeble protest that it's my hand, just my hand, without any real commitment. He's my master after all so I do as he asks and the princess walks in at just the wrong moment and again I'm expecting fireworks. But they're both so _nice_ about it that I feel guilty as hell. I wish they would get mad at me. Then at least I'd have that excuse for still loving my Queen.

The princess hugs me and it's as though I might break apart against her.

A few days later I faint with pure exhaustion. Actually faint. That's unheard of among the shitennou. Kunzite forces me to go to bed and Nephrite bullies me into letting Ami check me over. All she can tell me to do is rest. They don't let me leave my bed if they can help it. Shit, I know I'm really going to_ have_ to sleep now. I already know who I'll dream of.

I keep waking up with tears streaming down my face. I can only pray that I don't call out in my sleep.

The princess shows up with a card and has to explain that this is what you do when a friend is sick.

A friend...

I feel like a traitor all over again.


End file.
